Have you ever had to "write off" a friend? I have never been in this position before but I have had a friend for several years who appears to be on the chopping block (so to speak).
It is strange. One moment, we were inseperable and now I can't even summon up enough care to drive across town for her. It is odd but I think after being treated poorly by her for a while, I could now give two sh*ts (to put it bluntly). No matter what, though, I am sad for the loss of the friendship we once had.
Four years ago, E. and I moved to Georgia together. It was an incredible experience. She was healing from a breakup in Colorado that left her spinning and I was searching for my career by taking more and more graduate level classes after quitting law school in Virginia. Needless to say, we were attached at the hip. We borrowed each others clothes and lived like sisters. We finished each other's thoughts, cooked together...sometimes it was hard to know where I ended and she began. But then something happened that changed it all.
For the first and last time in my life, I played matchmaker. I set E. up with J., a former law school classmate and they hit it off. Within months they were in love, spending all of their time together. Within the year, they were married. As the months passed, our friendship began to dwindle. I always thought that a healthy marriage consisted of each of you continuing to place imporatance on your individual friendships but apparently this is where she and I part ways.
I remember her wedding as if it were my own and that is only because I considered it *that* important. Interestingly enough, now that I am getting married, she is nowhere to be found. When I announced my engagement to her, all she did was send a text saying "wow! That is fast!" Thanks for your unsolicited critique but a "congratulations" really would have sufficed.
In May, E. and J. welcomed their first baby into the world. I received a text saying that they were going to the hospital. I texted back to *call* me when they could have visitors. I never heard back. Since then I have called a few times to say hello and ask if I could meet the baby but am talking to her voicemail and the calls are never returned. On occasion, I hear from her on Facebook and it is usually an "I like" thumbs-up after my status. Thanks.
So last night I did something I would have never imagined: I erased her number from my phone. I can't be the one making all the effort and I certainly cannot keep a friendship afloat on my own. So, I guess this is what giving a friend the old heave-ho looks like.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Friends, I would like you to meet David, my plus one.
David and I met on eHarmony in March and are getting married not this Tuesday but next! It is interesting because when I met David, I was not that interested in him. I think I was at a point in my dating life where I wasn't trying to get my heart broken and would do ANYTHING to avoid that feeling in my stomach and the pain in my chest. David and I met for lunch after talking online for a couple of weeks. When we met for the first time, I thought he was very sweet but just wasn't sure. David, on the other hand, called his sister, mom and brother in law after our first date telling them that I was "the One." :-) No, it took me a bit longer but I think that is good. I was so used to meeting guys and feeling that instant click only to have it fizzle after a few dates. With David, things were different. I was interested in getting to know him. I actually wanted to study him like I would a class in school.
Our third date really solidified things for me. David and I took our dogs to the dog park at Freedom Park. We stayed outside for hours regardless of the rain and wind :-) At one point, I stood behind David and noticed how tall and strong he was. I realized then that I was attracted to him (very attracted to him) which I hadn't really honed in on before because I wanted to know the man inside the hot bod. :-)
It has been a whirlwind romance and on August 11, 2009 on the beach in Talbot Island, Florida, i will promise myself to David for all of our days. I will promise to love him even when he is a jerk and be faithful to him always. I will promise to put his happiness before my own and to be more concerned with his well being than my own (and he will promise the same for me).
Friends, it has been a long journey of dating slime ball after slime ball. The road has certainly been a broken one. But now that I know where that road was headed and that the final destination was into the arms of David Morrison, I am more than grateful. Thanks for reading and sharing the laughter and the tears. I cannot wait to share our married life with you. I am honored to introduce you to my plus one. :-)
Chockablock Plus One :-)
Last Friday night, David and I made martini's and sat on the patio. It is so fun to have time where we can both relax, talk about our busy weeks and drink cranberry martini's. :-) Most evenings, David asks me, "so, did you hear from anyone today?" This particular day I had been facebooked (now a verb) from Ter who requested a blog. David was like, "what?! A blog?" Apparently I had forgotten to mention this site to him. Looking back, it makes sense. I mean, usually my blogs are not filled with puppies and flowers and (gasp!) I have been to known to write when I am annoyed or p-o'd. As you can imagine, the remainder of the night was filled with me reading my blogs to David aloud outside on the patio. At the end of the evening, he asked me if I would write a blog about us...so most blogs from now on will include my hubby :-). I am sure that I will have to change the title since David is really not chockablock full of contradictions and is actually quite the opposite but that will come with time.
Monday, April 13, 2009
If I could vote anyone off the Island...
I know it takes all kinds of people to make this world work but sometimes, sometimes I wish people would just listen to themselves and hear how stupid and f'd up they are! Yesterday was Easter and I had perhaps the best Easter I have had since leaving home. Holidays are tough when you live far from family but yesterday I had a traditional Easter minus the family and the cheesy potatoes (which are really yum, by the way!).
Before I tell you the whole story, I have to tell you some background--not because it is pertinent to the story at all but just because I want to introduce you to someone. I met David (pronounced Daaaaavid because he is a good ole Southern boy), my special friend (ha! I think that sounds funny) on eharmony of all places!! Remember I said that i would never ever ever do that again? Well, I did and I met someone. He is not creepy and does not have an extra eye or bad teeth or anything. He is actually really very normal and attractive and sweet. Who knew?! Thank you Neil Clark Warren, thank you!
So Easter was spent with David. We went to church at his church in a place far far away from my house. It was my first time in a Methodist church and I have to say, I loved it. The preacher was incredible and they sang Hillsongs Worship songs, which of course sold me. So after church David and I went to lunch and ate hamburgers which is totally Easter food ;-) and basically just spent the day together. It was so nice and relaxing and interesting. I like learning about David.
When I got home from my Easter day with David, I grabbed my phone out of my purse and guess what? I had four missed calls from Scott, the ex!!! I mean, what on earth could be so important that he couldn't leave a message? So immediately I think the worst--his parents died, something happened to his sisters, blah, blah, blah. So I call him. I know, I shouldn't have but I did. He answers and I immediately ask him where the fire is, to which he responds that he was calling to tell me that he is never going to call me again.
(Pregnant pause...just let his insanity sink in)
Scott, you are officially voted off the Island!!! Please just grab two things and go! WTF???!!!! I mean, doesn't just not calling ever again seem like a more manly way of handling things? I just think that *calling me* to tell me that you are *never calling me again* is a bit odd.
In response, though, I said, "okay, Scott. Take care." (read: what the f ever you mangy dirt bag).
Before I tell you the whole story, I have to tell you some background--not because it is pertinent to the story at all but just because I want to introduce you to someone. I met David (pronounced Daaaaavid because he is a good ole Southern boy), my special friend (ha! I think that sounds funny) on eharmony of all places!! Remember I said that i would never ever ever do that again? Well, I did and I met someone. He is not creepy and does not have an extra eye or bad teeth or anything. He is actually really very normal and attractive and sweet. Who knew?! Thank you Neil Clark Warren, thank you!
So Easter was spent with David. We went to church at his church in a place far far away from my house. It was my first time in a Methodist church and I have to say, I loved it. The preacher was incredible and they sang Hillsongs Worship songs, which of course sold me. So after church David and I went to lunch and ate hamburgers which is totally Easter food ;-) and basically just spent the day together. It was so nice and relaxing and interesting. I like learning about David.
When I got home from my Easter day with David, I grabbed my phone out of my purse and guess what? I had four missed calls from Scott, the ex!!! I mean, what on earth could be so important that he couldn't leave a message? So immediately I think the worst--his parents died, something happened to his sisters, blah, blah, blah. So I call him. I know, I shouldn't have but I did. He answers and I immediately ask him where the fire is, to which he responds that he was calling to tell me that he is never going to call me again.
(Pregnant pause...just let his insanity sink in)
Scott, you are officially voted off the Island!!! Please just grab two things and go! WTF???!!!! I mean, doesn't just not calling ever again seem like a more manly way of handling things? I just think that *calling me* to tell me that you are *never calling me again* is a bit odd.
In response, though, I said, "okay, Scott. Take care." (read: what the f ever you mangy dirt bag).
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Plunger Owner seeks romance at Lowes
I have been feeling lately like I might be invisible to the opposite sex-- like perhaps God put some sort of special Harry-Potter-esque-frock on my person that prevents men from seeing me. I mean, literally men walk into me without stopping. I get bumped into in overly spacious rooms without so much as an "um, oops" or "dude, sorry." I feel like I could be standing naked at a stop light (I have NO idea why I would be naked at a stop light) and no one would even think twice or notice. Last night, though, my worst fear was confirmed. I am not invisible to all men. God has, for some reason, removed the frock for the men at Lowes. Yay! (biting sarcasm here).
After a long day (10 hours) of work at the running store, I remembered that I had a bit of a "situation" at home. Please note that this has never, ever, ever happened to me before but yesterday morning, on my out the door, the toilet overflowed!! It has threatened to overflow before but just enough to scare me. The water would rise up almost to the tippy-top of the toilet and then go back down again. When this has happened in the past, I stand and watch the water rise and then at the precise moment the water goes back down, I do a fist pump in the air and then go on with my life. Yesterday morning, my life changed dramatically: the toilet called my bluff! As I was standing over, anxiously watching, the water rose to the tippy-top which was not cause for alarm but then, the water rose past the tippy-top and out onto the floor in an angry rush! The water covered the floor in seconds flat. "What do I do, what do I do?" I ran around screaming and then turned the water off with the turny-thing next to the toilet. I didn't even know which way to turn it--instinct must have just taken over (notice how proud I am of myself for doing this, though) :-)
So, ten hours later, I am completely haggard and walk into Lowes with my short, black running skirt, running shoes and Nike tee that reads, "My fast is faster" (whatever that means). Up and down the plumbing aisles I weave in search of the item my Dad says "everyone should have" and I "should have bought years ago": a plunger.
Finally, a man, Tyrone, comes up to me and asked me if I needed help finding anything. I told him what I was looking for and he says almost under his breath, "you're beautiful." Um, okay, I know I should be grateful that he can see me or whatever but I AM BUYING A PLUNGER here! This is NOT the time to hit on me. I tried to stick to the subject at hand until he told me that he would like to take me to supper and some clubs. If you know me, you know that I am not exactly a club person. Perhaps it is my complete inability to dance to music other than classical. Perhaps it is the fact that I learned some dance moves in third grade at the school Sock Hop (don't laugh) and still employ them when the situation arises. Basically, I am no club-goer.
I finally told Tyrone that my boyfriend would be upset with me for attending the club function with him and that I would have to, respectfully, decline his invitation. Plunger in hand, I left the Lowes, went home and fixed my toilet-all by my lonesome.
After a long day (10 hours) of work at the running store, I remembered that I had a bit of a "situation" at home. Please note that this has never, ever, ever happened to me before but yesterday morning, on my out the door, the toilet overflowed!! It has threatened to overflow before but just enough to scare me. The water would rise up almost to the tippy-top of the toilet and then go back down again. When this has happened in the past, I stand and watch the water rise and then at the precise moment the water goes back down, I do a fist pump in the air and then go on with my life. Yesterday morning, my life changed dramatically: the toilet called my bluff! As I was standing over, anxiously watching, the water rose to the tippy-top which was not cause for alarm but then, the water rose past the tippy-top and out onto the floor in an angry rush! The water covered the floor in seconds flat. "What do I do, what do I do?" I ran around screaming and then turned the water off with the turny-thing next to the toilet. I didn't even know which way to turn it--instinct must have just taken over (notice how proud I am of myself for doing this, though) :-)
So, ten hours later, I am completely haggard and walk into Lowes with my short, black running skirt, running shoes and Nike tee that reads, "My fast is faster" (whatever that means). Up and down the plumbing aisles I weave in search of the item my Dad says "everyone should have" and I "should have bought years ago": a plunger.
Finally, a man, Tyrone, comes up to me and asked me if I needed help finding anything. I told him what I was looking for and he says almost under his breath, "you're beautiful." Um, okay, I know I should be grateful that he can see me or whatever but I AM BUYING A PLUNGER here! This is NOT the time to hit on me. I tried to stick to the subject at hand until he told me that he would like to take me to supper and some clubs. If you know me, you know that I am not exactly a club person. Perhaps it is my complete inability to dance to music other than classical. Perhaps it is the fact that I learned some dance moves in third grade at the school Sock Hop (don't laugh) and still employ them when the situation arises. Basically, I am no club-goer.
I finally told Tyrone that my boyfriend would be upset with me for attending the club function with him and that I would have to, respectfully, decline his invitation. Plunger in hand, I left the Lowes, went home and fixed my toilet-all by my lonesome.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Back to Blogging
Why haven't I been blogging in six months, you ask? Well, I have been busy--that is the simple answer. The detailed answer is that I was in a relationship from August until January that, surprise, did not last. While He Who Shall Remain Nameless and I were together, I did the codependent-girl-thing and didn't make time for me. I mean, I can only fully describe the extent by which I forgot about myself by telling you that I pretty much (gasp!!!) stopped running!! It was pretty horrible. By the time it was fully finished, he was fat and a jerk and I was well, I was me but the me who had stopped running.
You know that bumper sticker? The one about things being stripped away and what is left is the good stuff? I am paraphrasing here but you get the idea. Well, that bumper sticker pretty much describes my life right now. Not long after He Who Shall Remain Nameless and I abruptly ended our relationship, I lost my job. No, not the good job--not my running store job but the job that I hated anyway. I can't say why I stayed with a job that I despised for a year but I like to think of myself as the Captain of the Sinking Ship--the Captain is supposed to be the last off the ship and by golly, that is ME. :-) So the ship is sinking and I am just trying to deal with it as best I can. I "make the most of it." I am good at talking my way through a total s*it storm and acting like it is not raining poo. However, the truth is that a weaker person (ha! like I am so tough!) would have left a LOOOOONNNNNGGGG time ago--like in the second week. Scratch that--a *smarter* person, would have left after the second week.
So now, now I have time to run. I have time to blog. I even have time to clean my bathroom but am currently busy writing this blog so that will have to wait. This morning I got up and ran a bit and then came back to the condo to drink a nice cup of uber strong coffee (the craptastic job had the weakest, nastiest coffee EVER! I mean, it was brown water and people had to doctor it up best they could but I have good coffee now and that, friends, is another perk of being fired). So I am drinking coffee and who should call but someone from the despicable job. I answer the phone and because I live in the Age of the Iphone and The Age of Modern Technology, I KNOW who is calling while the phone is ringing. I pick it up, "hello?" and Angie, from the firm says, "Hi, Sara, it's Angie. You know, Angie from "Shister and A-hole's R Us Law Firm"? (she said the real name, mind you).
A little background here. It won't take much but I should tell you that I was fired (I prefer the term, "Extricated by God" on Friday. It is now Thursday. In the six days since I was fired, I have, to my knowledge, not suffered any head injuries. Nor have I, to my knowledge, began taking mind altering substances. I have not, to my knowledge, been abducted by aliens nor have I submitted to scientific experimentation in any way. So, basically, the chances of me forgetting the name of one of my coworkers in an office of, say twenty-five, in the span of six days, is not likely. Angie: if you should call my cell again, you can just say, "Hi, this is Angie." You do not have to tell me where you work or give me any type of contextual bookmark so that I can place you. Thanks.
Friends, I am back to blogging.
Love,
Sara
You know that bumper sticker? The one about things being stripped away and what is left is the good stuff? I am paraphrasing here but you get the idea. Well, that bumper sticker pretty much describes my life right now. Not long after He Who Shall Remain Nameless and I abruptly ended our relationship, I lost my job. No, not the good job--not my running store job but the job that I hated anyway. I can't say why I stayed with a job that I despised for a year but I like to think of myself as the Captain of the Sinking Ship--the Captain is supposed to be the last off the ship and by golly, that is ME. :-) So the ship is sinking and I am just trying to deal with it as best I can. I "make the most of it." I am good at talking my way through a total s*it storm and acting like it is not raining poo. However, the truth is that a weaker person (ha! like I am so tough!) would have left a LOOOOONNNNNGGGG time ago--like in the second week. Scratch that--a *smarter* person, would have left after the second week.
So now, now I have time to run. I have time to blog. I even have time to clean my bathroom but am currently busy writing this blog so that will have to wait. This morning I got up and ran a bit and then came back to the condo to drink a nice cup of uber strong coffee (the craptastic job had the weakest, nastiest coffee EVER! I mean, it was brown water and people had to doctor it up best they could but I have good coffee now and that, friends, is another perk of being fired). So I am drinking coffee and who should call but someone from the despicable job. I answer the phone and because I live in the Age of the Iphone and The Age of Modern Technology, I KNOW who is calling while the phone is ringing. I pick it up, "hello?" and Angie, from the firm says, "Hi, Sara, it's Angie. You know, Angie from "Shister and A-hole's R Us Law Firm"? (she said the real name, mind you).
A little background here. It won't take much but I should tell you that I was fired (I prefer the term, "Extricated by God" on Friday. It is now Thursday. In the six days since I was fired, I have, to my knowledge, not suffered any head injuries. Nor have I, to my knowledge, began taking mind altering substances. I have not, to my knowledge, been abducted by aliens nor have I submitted to scientific experimentation in any way. So, basically, the chances of me forgetting the name of one of my coworkers in an office of, say twenty-five, in the span of six days, is not likely. Angie: if you should call my cell again, you can just say, "Hi, this is Angie." You do not have to tell me where you work or give me any type of contextual bookmark so that I can place you. Thanks.
Friends, I am back to blogging.
Love,
Sara
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